Creole Moon the Betrayal

By S.T. Holmes

Explore the world of fantasy in the Louisiana swamp during the 1800s.  Join our hero, George Genois, as he uncovers a dark side of love and marriage.  George returns to his hometown to celebrate the wedding of his twin brother, Gerald. George is not the marrying kind but strange events throw him in the path of a fiery rebellious young

• Language: English
• Publisher: TOPLINK PUBLISHING, LLC
• Release date: Jul 21, 2017
• ISBN: 9781947620087

S.T. Holmes

S.T. Holmes was born in New Orleans, LA and was educated in the Catholic school system there. She is a twin and has one younger sister. As the middle child, she always felt like the odd ball never really fitting in. So, she turned to her highly imaginative nature and began writing about human nature and how twisted things can get. Merging her creativity with the tall tales spun about the bayous of Louisiana, Holmes came up with this paranormal story line for her novel. She believes that humans' fate or destiny is governed by some higher power. This book explores the idea that supernatural beings in concert with the gods and goddesses of long ago, use humans as pawns for their own godly amusement.

Book preview

Chapter 1

"I bind this man for the love of mine.

The spell can’t be broken until I am thine.

Death and time shall keep us apart.

Until I am thine and I give you my heart."

Time –Louisiana, 1800s

The laughter was loud and infectious. Everyone in the bar took turns poking and jeering at the newlywed to be, but no one was more vocal than Gerald’s twin brother, George. The never-ending stream of alcohol only added fuel to the boisterous and rowdy bunch. Everyone in the bar was having a good time; even the other patrons that were not a part of the wedding party took turns making fun of the groom to be.

Poor bastard, a voice yelled out.

Yeah, you’ll be tied to those skirt tails the rest of your life, said another.

George added, Well, this is the last time we’ll see you this free and easygoing for a long time to come. As they say, ‘first comes love, then marriage, and then comes babies.’ I think love comes and the rest of your life is over as you know it. He took a big gulp of whiskey from the small glass and then coughed violently as the bittersweet liquid ran down his throat. His body jerked from the sweet, scorching sensation that sent an aromatic licorice scent up through his nostrils. A sneeze forced its way out. But in mid-explosion a vigorous cough erupted and alcohol-tainted spittle flew out of his mouth across the bar table and landed in the bartender’s face and hands. Gerald was leaning on the bar next to his brother when George began a strangling cough. He backed away just in time to escape the liquor-tainted shower. With a hard slap on the back, he helped George regain control of his bodily functions. George nodded his head in appreciation and to communicate that he had it under control. He looked at his brother and thought this would be the last night they would spend together like this; free men of the world.

George was a career military man with no aspirations for settling down. Rumor had it that he was in line for a promotion to captain. Excited about the pending promotion but not wanting to steal the thunder from his brother’s big day, he kept it to himself waiting for the proper time to tell the family. There was much more excitement in leading your own squad into battle, telling war stories and building them up bigger and better than life itself. It was like playing cowboys and Indians all over again but for real this time.

What drives a man to intentionally get hitched to one woman for the rest of his life? He shouted out more like a slur. He couldn’t understand what twisted demented hold on a man’s sanity would make him resort to giving up his freedom. FOREVER, came after a brief pause, and he picked up his glass to finish off the drop that lingered in the bottom. Might as well stand before a firing squad and get it over with quick. That thought ran through is mind, too, but he didn’t verbalize it. He decided to keep those thoughts to himself and play the responsible role assigned to him. Gerald remained quiet listening to the comments but a twinge of doubt started to emerge through his dulled state. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. Maybe we are moving too fast. Maybe George is right. Forever is a long time. He looked at his brother with alarm in his eyes but George returned the stare with confidence.

You’re too young to be that cynical boy, an older man in the bar said.

Yeah, Gerald said with a slurred speech. We all take that road sooner or later.

Not me, big brother, not me; I’m not the marrying kind. There’ll be no rustling of skirt tails or screaming babies trailing behind me- not where I’m going.

Yeah, your life is so perfect right? Every man wants to have bullets flying around his head and cannons exploding all around him - real safe.

I’d rather be dodging bullets than little yappers running round with dirty faces and soiled diapers and a nagging wife to boot.

Oh yeah, nice picture - that’ll make you want to dodge something for sure, another man shouted.

His escape from married life will be limited to Saturday shopping trips and back home before dark.

Yeah, or after church service luncheons on Sunday with the in-laws less he risk being hunted down and called out in public, said another stranger from the crowd. More laughter erupted as one man acted out the part of the wife and another played the part of the husband as they walked between the narrow tables in the saloon.

For sure, she will come looking for you if you aren’t home by curfew. The man grimaced as he said the last word. Another one of the groomsmen took out his kerchief and began to wave it in the air and dab at his eyes pretending to be his distraught wife seeking her husband. In a drunken scruffy falsetto voice, he began roaming around the room stopping at the various tables, lifting up the faces that had fallen on the tabletops, allowing the dim light to shine on them while looking for her pretend husband.

Snookums, when you coming home? Your dinner is getting cold. Voices from the crowd yelled out as the groomsman began to swish his hips from side to side. As he walked past another table, someone stuck out an old scoffed up boot and the fake woman tripped and fell face down onto the floor. The crowd in the bar roared even louder. They became so rowdy that outside passersby skirted quickly past the door to avoid being hit by potential flying objects or knocked over by a staggering drunkard. The saloon girls gave up trying to entice anyone to spend time with them and went off into a corner to create their own entertainment.

Gerald sat quietly eyeing his drink thinking about what the guys were saying. George shrugged his shoulders a bit as he watched the girls walk to the opposite side of the bar and out of sight. He had a fondness for one of them and usually spent an evening with her while he was in town. But tonight was special. He turned his focus back to the bar and the others.

Well, brother, all I can say is, better you than me. He ordered another round of drinks for the house as they continued their joking well into the night. One by one the older customers began to dwindle out leaving the late night frivolity to the young bucks. The girls came out of hiding from the corner where they spent most of the evening hoping to score with one of the young men. But the men were too drunk and totally uninterested. Disgusted that there was no action in it for them, the women went home.

Finally, the bartender yelled last call for the night, and George quickly motioned another round for the house before they were booted out. The crowd had shrunk down to only a handful of diehard drinkers and those with no particular place to go. After wiping down the counter and stowing the bottles on the shelf behind him, the bartender began to walk around the room snuffing the lights out and picking up empty glasses from the less than sober patrons left behind. George got the hint and gulped down the last of his drink. Before Gerald could swallow what was left of his, George grabbed the glass from his hand and finished it.

Sheepishly smiling at Gerald he said, I wouldn’t want you to be totally wasted on your wedding night. He stood up on two very wobbly legs and grabbed a hold of the counter for support. Although his legs were not the steadiest between the two of them, he was able to help his brother to his feet and both staggered out into the street propping each other up.

Am I doing the right thing? You wouldn’t do this. Gerald asked looking at George through half closed eyes.

Having second thoughts? Don’t! It’s the right thing for you, Gerry. It’s not the life for me.

The air was cool and crisp for late July. A thick fog started rolling in and blanketing the ground. A bad summer storm was brewing. A cold shiver ran up George’s spine. An odd feeling came over him. He felt the hackles at the back of his neck rise. Everything around him looked normal with the exception of the fog, but something didn’t feel quite right. A few slaves standing outside the corner of the saloon were frightened as they watched the thick mist float up from the direction of the bayou. It was unnatural for this time of year and it was rolling in fast and quickly covering the ground. George overheard the slaves whisper something about a priest and a chicken man from the swamp. The slaves were very superstitious and always afraid of something. Usually, that fear amounted to nothing more than coincidence. He paused a little longer to look at the men and the rolling fog. He thought he heard the faint sound of drums some distance away. There was something unnatural about all of this even to him. George shrugged his shoulders just a little and decided to ignore what he heard. He brushed off the eerie feeling as a result of too much liquor. He readjusted Gerald’s arm over his shoulder to give them both better stability and continued on his mission.

The change in the weather didn’t seem to affect his brother. Gerald was barely conscious of his surroundings and didn’t hear the slave’s comments. George reached under his brother’s other arm as they walked to the buggy tied up at the end of the building. As the best man, it was his duty to stay with the groom and see that he made it to the ceremony safely if not sober. He would do all in his power to make sure he got to that altar.

Once they both were settled into the seat, his brother’s head fell backwards with his face lifted to the stars and his mouth wide open. George glanced over at his brother and wondered how his wife-to-be would feel gazing at that site. He took hold of the reigns, popped them across the horse’s back and made a clicking sound with his mouth. The horsed responded to the sound and slowly trotted along the quiet street down to the hotel. He kept a room in town for this very reason. When he was too drunk to find his way home, he had a place to sleep it off. And when he needed some private, intimate and physically stimulating entertainment, he was far enough away from the meddling busy bodies of his family. They would rest at his place for the night and ride out to the ranch in the morning for the ceremony. He had to show his family he was dependable when it came to family matters. They could trust him to take care of his brother with a boy’s night out on the town and still return him to the house for the ceremonial hanging called a wedding the next morning. After all, he had to secure a place with the women of the family in order to be invited to future family dinners and social gatherings.

At the boarding house, he struggled to pull himself out of the buggy before he hitched the horse’s reigns to a post. It took him twice as long as usual to stagger around the horse and reach the porch steps. With his feet spread wide apart for stability, he reached over to pull his brother from the buggy and tossed him head first over his shoulder. His brother didn’t stir a muscle but remained passed out. George carried Gerald up the stairs to his room. The room was extremely dark. George felt his way to the bed using the toe of his boots and his knees as his guide. He dropped Gerald across the small bed, and a whoosh of air escaped his lips as he hit the firm mattress. No longer burdened from his brother’s weight, George slumped down to the floor right where he was standing. From some place deep in his foggy mind, he recollected that he was somewhere between the chair next to the bed and the foot of the bed. He managed to hit the floor before all consciousness slipped away and he was enveloped in sweet, deep sleep.

That next morning, he woke with the sunlight streaming through the narrow slit in the curtains. George got up first, arched his back and stretched his legs like a cat waking from a nap. His brother was still unconscious sprawled across the bed. He always took up most the bed when he slept. Even as a child he would stretch out over most of the bed leaving only a corner for George to find comfort. George smiled inwardly at the memories and thought this behavior would be a challenge for his brother’s new wife. He jolted from his reverie at the thought of the word wife.

The wedding he let escape from his lips. He bent over, grabbed his brother’s hair and pulled hard. He hated to wake him from his beauty rest, but they had a wedding to attend.

Chapter 2

The smell of country ham frying and Mazie’s homemade biscuits filled the air as they drew nearer to the ranch house. The brothers’ stomachs began to growl as the aroma surrounded their heads. It had been a while since George had one of Mazie’s famous breakfasts. His mouth was uncontrollably watering at the thought of those hot buttermilk biscuits and homemade marmalade. The boys no longer thought about the wedding. They only thought about food.

From the porch, old Joe saw them coming from a long ways off. The boys were riding up to the house with a cloud of dust kicking up behind them. He was always glad to see the boys no matter what the occasion. He went into the house to announce the arrival to the rest of the family then returned to the foyer to wait for them. Facing the open door with arms out stretched he was ready to welcome the boys home. Horses barely hitched to the post, the boys ran into the house heading straight for the dining room. They rushed right past Joe without saying a word. First one then the other, Joe grabbed each boy by the shirttails and pulled them back just like when they were young. He chuckled and shook his head.

Some things never change. Ya’ll betta go wash up ‘fo’ Miss Emma sees ya, he said as the boys turned to see what kept them from their intended destination.

I can’t believe you did that! Gerald exclaimed. We’re not young boys anymore, George said. Old Joe dropped the shirttails, shook his head and pointed to the wash room. The boys looked at one another in surprise that Joe could still control them like he had when they were children. They were humiliated but knew better than to ignore him, even at their age, so they slowly walked in the direction that the finger was pointing.

They cleaned up well. No one could tell just by looking at the pair that they had hangovers as big as the Mississippi River was wide. In fact, all of the groomsmen now present posed a striking appearance of harnessed wild power trapped in heavy starched shirts and unforgiving snug trousers. They looked like untamed mustangs enclosed in a barbed wire patch, anxious to bolt at the slightest chance. There was enough good looks and charm between them that a smile from any one could stop the heart of an impetuous female both young and old alike.

After breakfast, all of the groomsmen went to Gerald’s bedroom. Arm wrestling was a way to pass the time and keep all of the men together but he wasn’t interested. Gerald was nervous and couldn’t stay focus on anything. He stood facing the window looking at the pasture watching the horses run free. Although he was pretty drunk last night, he still remembered his brief conversations with his brother about the marriage. He couldn’t help but have reservations about the wedding. After all, he really hadn’t done anything wild or adventurous in his life. Not like his brother. Now he is getting ready to settle down with a wife and take over the family ranch. He didn’t know if he was ready for all of this responsibility. George sensed his brother was struggling with something so he went over to him.

What’s wrong? You should be happy, nervous but happy. He said with a smile.

I don’t know if I am doing the right thing. What if she turns out to be a nag? What if_

Come on. You’ve known Annabel since we were tikes. The families have been planning this day for years.

I know. I know, but what if she really isn’t the right girl for me?

She is the right girl for you, trust me on this. He said this with as much sincerity as he could to help ease his brother’s nerves.

Come join the others and relax. You’ll be fine once it’s over. George pulled his brother by the arm and led him back to the group. Gerald wasn’t sure if he felt the same confidence his brother felt about the whole thing but it was a done deal now and it was too late to back out of it. Or was it?

George wagered a steak dinner with all the trimmings to the one that could beat him or hold him firm until the count of twenty. It seemed like a good deal, but Gerald knew better. On his last visit with George at the army camp site, he heard about his nickname temen. When he asked George about the name, he said it was because he had single handedly beaten over ten men in a drunken broil. After that weekend, the men called him temen. Gerald was proud of his brother and gained a new found respect for George’s strength and courage. He was also smart enough not to accept any kind of bet such as this one.

I’ll take that bet Jack said. He was the biggest of all the groomsmen and felt fairly certain he could beat George. Gerald shook his head from side to side in an effort to discourage the man. George looked up at Gerald and then at Jack with an innocent smile. Jack got a false sense of confidence and sat opposite George. He placed his elbow on the table in the ready position. The match was over before the count of five. Temen won again. His pride now hurt, Jack went to the other side of the room to sulk but Gerald went over and smoothed his bruised ego and brought him back to the group. They remained in a playful mood until it was time to get dressed for the ceremony. Finally the moment had arrived. The boys assembled in the large family room that was used to host holiday balls,